3. Chapter 3 #2
Ally stood in the doorway to the open office, loudly waxing poetically about issuing article corrections or something.
A glance around the room showed me I wasn’t the only one not paying attention.
We sat in rows of cheap desks decorated with the Popbyte logo that we weren’t allowed to personalize.
Instead of family photos and children’s artwork that would denote our personalities, plain colored walls surrounded us.
I rested my head on my hand and tried to ignore Jordan’s fiery gaze burning holes into the side of my head from across the room.
Since his misplaced concern the other day, we hadn’t talked, and I’d left the group chat on read.
My anger had shifted to exhaustion. I was plain tired of the universe treating me a certain way.
Hopefully, all that was about to change.
Popbyte was the type of job where they “preferred” and “strongly encouraged,” (more like pressured) everyone to come into the office.
The routine of going in everyday was good for me despite how much I hated it.
Honestly, as long as the work was done, us content creators weren’t really noticed.
Slipping in and out of the office whenever was my favorite unspoken perk of the job.
The moment Ally stopped talking, I dipped.
Excited, I took the stairs two at a time as I pulled on my coat.
Once I made it to the bottom, I leaned against the wall.
Winded, I stood there for several minutes with my forehead pressed against the cool concrete of the wall.
Exercise was never my forte. When I was breathing again like a normal person and not the big bad wolf, I zipped up my coat and headed to Brew Box.
It was less busy, but I hoped that our previous table sharing had connected Summoner and I enough for him to approach me again. That’s when I would pounce.
I bared my teeth and let out a little growl. The cashier stared at me, and I realized that I was now at the front of the line. Embarrassment incinerated my insides.
A good dose of humiliation paired nicely with my mocha. I took a sip and opened my computer. Everything was window dressing. Buzzing in my seat, I settled in for a wait. Every time the door opened, my eyes darted up in excitement, only to be let down with disappointment.
Well into my agonizing wait, the door opened, and I exploded. Summoner walked into the shop. I desperately wanted to let free the squeal that burned my throat, but I managed to restrain myself. The overwhelming beat of my heart filled my ears.
Summoner moved carefully. Head stooped, his newsboy cap kept his face obscured, but there was no mistaking it—it was him.
Like a creep, or the world’s worst wildlife presenter, I observed him.
He tried to present himself as small, but just because of the nature of his presence, such a feat was impossible.
The universe wouldn’t let him hide away forever.
Even nervously waiting in line, a golden spotlight seemed to shine on him from above.
A barista handed him a steaming mug of tea, and he stepped away from the counter to look for a table.
I wasn’t going to let a little nuisance like open tables get in my way.
Waving like a lunatic, Summoner couldn’t help but notice me.
He blinked before swiftly changing course.
His long legs moved him across the café.
Eyes fixed on mine, he extended his free hand toward the open chair and asked:
“Would this seat happen to be open?”
The effect of his voice was totally captivating.
Embarrassingly, I heard a giggle. A beat later, I realized the jackal-like cackling was coming from me.
Lips pressed together, I nodded, and Summoner pulled out his chair.
He shifted out of his coat and retrieved his tea bag from his mug.
He rested it on the saucer. His every move was effortlessly thoughtful. Smooth yet calculated. Mesmerizing.
“So.” His words hung in the air as he propped one leg up on the other. “How are things treating you, Poppy?”
The way he said my name zapped sparks through my veins. Remembering my name was such an inconsequential thing, yet it thrilled me.
“Fine! You?”
He answered with a brief nod of his head. His hands circled his mug, and he brought it to his mouth. I took that moment to steel myself. My chance had presented itself and I couldn’t let a few butterflies trip me up. I closed my laptop just as Summoner returned his mug to the table.
“Done so soon?”
I shook my head. “…I…I just wanted to ask you something.”
He rested his forearm on the table. “What might that be?”
You can do this, Poppy!
Practicing in the bathroom mirror made this whole process seem easier than it actually was. I swallowed hard and took a deep breath.
“…Could I interview you?”
It was finally out there. My question was in the air. Carried by hope and stuck together by prayers. The ball was now in his court. Summoner’s body went rigid, bone straight. The playfulness that glittered his eyes when he sat down had been snuffed out in an instant.
“W—Why? Why would you want to do that? I’m, I’m, I’m nobody…” he stammered. The straightforward pronunciation of his words slipped away, leaving a hyper sing-song rhythm in its place.
His skin was awash in a deathly pale. I leaned in, closing the distance from across the little table. The steam off his earl gray tea tickled my nose.
“…I know who you are, Summoner. I have all your albums,” I whispered.
I glanced around us. Everyone in the café was lost in their own worlds, reading books, laughing with friends, or typing on their laptops.
No one could have overheard us. But before I had the chance to tell Summoner his secret was safe with me, he jumped out of his chair.
Sheer panic painted his face as he snatched up his coat and sprinted for the door.
FUCK!
For all the scenarios I ran in my head, I hadn’t accounted for my interview subject making a break for it.
“Shit! Shit! Shit!” I grumbled to myself as I tossed my laptop into my bag and grabbed my coat.
As I turned to give chase, I noticed Summoner had abandoned his mug of tea.
I grabbed it and booked it out of the coffee shop.
I began my pursuit, heading in the same direction he went last week.
I ducked and weaved around the annoying people crowding the sidewalk who didn’t know the opportunity of a lifetime was getting away from me.
Hot tea sloshed all over my hand and forearm, but it was just the price of following a lead.
Just as I started to lose hope, I spotted a familiar pea coat and newsboy cap at the street corner.
THANK GOD FOR RED LIGHTS!
A general lack of exercise and the cold winter air burned my lungs. Huffing like a madwoman, I made it to the crosswalk and carefully slid in beside Summoner.
“Hey,” I said as coolly as possible, which more than likely came out sounding hysterical.
Summoner’s eyes widened as he looked over at me standing beside him. I smiled as the light changed. A mess of pedestrians had us blocked in next to each other as we crossed the street.
“Red lights, am I right?” I chuckled as my heart rate and respirations returned to a normal rate.
Summoner grunted and kept his eyes locked ahead.
“You didn’t give me a chance to say it, but I’m honored to be in your presence. Like, your music has been the soundtrack of my life and I never, I mean never, ever thought I’d get to see you in the flesh!” I tossed up my hands and splashed tea on my shoulder and onto the sidewalk.
Hands in his pockets, Summoner continued his march ahead, only stopped by crosswalks. I attempted to fashion the lid back on my excitement and continued my appeal.
“I wore out your Tall Summoner’s Tales Live in Dubai tape.”
“It’s like total serendipity that we met! My favorite singer, in my favorite coffee shop. What are the odds?!”
We turned a corner and waited to cross another street.
“If you couldn’t already tell, I’m a massive fan. And I think if anyone has the right to interview you it should be someone who respects your work and what you’ve done with your career.”
We crossed two more streets. I stumbled over the curb but was able to keep up without breaking my stride. I couldn’t help my smile when I noticed the brief glance flashed in my direction.
“We could collaborate on the questions. And as you know, I already work for Popbyte. They’ll handle this with respect.”
“I’m the right fit. You, me, and this interview are like puzzle pieces fitting together.”
Summoner kept looking straight ahead. I couldn’t get a read on him, and I couldn’t tell if his thoughts had changed. We turned another corner. I opened my mouth to serve Summoner with another convincing reason he could conduct an interview with me when my arm smacked into his.
“Oh my God! I’m so sorry!” I exclaimed.
Summoner had stopped in front of a large brick building with an ornate glass front door. An impeccably dressed doorman in a red suit under a black wool coat stepped outside. He smiled at Summoner, who acknowledged him with a slight nod of the head.
“…Do you live here?” I asked.
“Nar!” He coughed and his proper accent slid back into place. “No!” He shouted and shuffled up the stairs.
It was the first word he’d spoken to me since the coffee shop. I watched him disappear inside. The doorman flashed a hint of pity in my direction as he closed the door. Bruised and crestfallen, like a scolded child, I turned to leave.
That’s when I noticed a weight in my hand. I looked down at Summoner’s mug from the café. The tea was long gone, emptiness in its place.
Maybe all hope wasn’t lost.